


There Won't Be Any Wedding Dresses

by ununoriginal



Category: Kanjani8 (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-03
Updated: 2008-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-15 03:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/844652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununoriginal/pseuds/ununoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nights on the road can be hard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Won't Be Any Wedding Dresses

**Author's Note:**

> Completely self-indulgent fic where I explore my fascination for Ryo as Sousuke.

The tour bus quietens down fairly quickly tonight. They're midway through the tour, and even though it's always immensely uplifting to see how much joy they bring to their fans when performing live, the exhaustive schedule is beginning to take its toll.  
  
Ryo slumps down in his seat bonelessly, eyes drifting shut the moment he turns on his ipod. The recent decision for him to act in 'Ryousei no Kizuna' this fall meant the start of another flurry of back-and-forths as he juggles the concerts with meetings with the show's producers, discussions with the director and the publicity staff, both that of the agency and the television station's. The way it's going now, any second of shut-eye is immeasurably precious.  
  
From behind, Subaru sticks his hand in between the two seats and pokes his shoulder, but he just swats at it desultorily until Subaru loses interest and gives up, turning to ruffle Yasu's hair instead. Ryo squirms around until he ends up leaning against the cold, unyielding pane of the bus window, the constant vibrations from the vehicle's engines emphasising all the more just how uncomfortable the crick in his neck is going to be once they reach the hotel.  
  
Resolutely, he ignores the sudden sharp pang of longing for a warm solid shoulder and fingers, alternatively playful and soothing, running through his hair. If he lets himself, he can all too easily bring up the smoke-roughened voice murmuring soft beside his ear, accompanied by deep chuckles of quiet amusement. He clamps down on his musings before they go any further.  
  
He is on tour now, and the other is also busy, both with school and his own solo activities. That is the way of their lives, their choice, and he's prepared himself, has thought that he was fine, with not being able to really be together for the next few months. Yet the slightest thing can still unexpectedly throw him off-balance – ever since two weeks ago when he had caught the morning broadcast promoting the stage play, his heart has been skipping a beat whenever he glimpses blond hair.  
  
Kuwata Keisuke's voice fades away in the dying notes of a Southern All Stars ballad Pi had programmed into the player, and the ensuing silence is broken by Hikki's haunting vocals, backed by the unrelenting beat of the piano and drums. As the music builds up to a crescendo, it stirs Ryo towards wakefulness, until he finally gives up and just stares out wide-eyed at the neon lights flashing by.  
  
*  
  
The relief at finally being alone in his hotel room gives way to quiet curses as Ryo realises the time. He can't possibly call now – the midnight hour is Shige at his creative peak, interrupting him now would be akin to someone barging in on Ryo when he's trying to compose his next song.  
  
'Prisoner of Love' is still on repeat in his head as he slides between the sheets, resigned to a night of tossing and turning. For once, he wishes the tour budget hasn't expanded to include single rooms for each member, then at least he could bother someone until they shared in his insomnia.  
  
The song had been used when filming one of his final scenes in 'Last Friends' to help create the mood, and since then, the associations he'd formed makes him feel uneasy whenever he hears it again. Despite the obligatory public statements to the contrary, Ryo knows that he had been able to get into the skin of Sousuke so horrifyingly well because, deep down, at a certain level, there's a Sousuke within him.  
  
For him, acting is all about tapping into the hidden parts of himself, learning aspects of his character he never realised he had or facing things he could never bear to acknowledge before, drawing out the essence of these discoveries and channeling it into the role he's supposed to play. He's not surprised that he could get into Sousuke's mindset – the potential for violence is hardwired into every human being after all – but it was the ease with which he identified with Sousuke's feelings and motivations which still rakes up turmoil within him.  
  
Aikawa Sousuke has been his hardest role to date, yet in a way, the easiest.  
  
He remembers the insatiable curiosity to know _all_ of Shige, when they had first become a couple, wanting to know who Shige had been with, what he had been doing, how he spent his time – obsessively worrying at it each time Shige answered the phone in his presence and he couldn't place who it was Shige was talking to.  
  
He recalls being insanely jealous of the closeness between Shige and Koyama, how they would still see each other practically every day, the way they could complete each other's sentences, the easy, unself-conscious cameraderie they share. Or he would find himself strangely resentful of Pi when Pi recounted anecdotes of his nights out drinking with Shige; of Tegoshi expectantly waiting in the dressing room for Shige to style his hair. There was even the time he felt like strangling Uchi, just because he was so _envious_ that the other man would get the chance to see Shige daily since they were both filming their respective dramas at the same location.  
  
It was after he started the actual filming of 'Last Friends' that he gradually realised that the lines differentiating his constant yearning for more of Shige's presence, and Sousuke's desire to possess Michiru, were possibly quite blurry and grey.  
  
He had returned to their apartment after eight hours of filming the first DV scene. Eight hours of flinging Michiru to the floor, pummelling, crashing furniture, tears and soft terrified whimpers. When he had come home to Shige half asleep on the couch, the 'Hoka Ben' script cradled loosely in his hands, all he'd wanted to do was to hold him, to crush Shige so tightly against him that Shige would meld into him and be part of him, so he could have Shige with him wherever he went.  
  
Nights like these he went to sleep alone, not daring to touch Shige for fear the repressed violence within him would explode. Yet he would always wake up the next day to a warm weight curled against his back and grumpy muttering about inconsiderate boyfriends who didn't even have the courtesy of letting their other half know they had come home for the night.  
  
Those mornings he would keep Shige's arms around him as long as he could, before he had to go back on set again and be the psychotic, abusive lover.  
  
The soaring ratings, the accolades and all the votes garnering him Best Supporting Actor still don't dispel the tinge of shame that twists queasily in his gut whenever people sing his praises. It's one of the things he thinks he will bring with him to his grave, that the critical success he achieved through this role is actually rooted in the destructive potential kindled within him the day he found he was in love with Shige.  
  
*  
  
The rattle of his mobile phone on vibration mode suddenly interrupts the echoing silence of the room, making Ryo jump slightly, and his heart beats just that little bit faster as he reaches for his phone.  
  
 _Hey, congratulations on another successful concert. I'd call, but I guess you should be asleep by now. Good luck for tomorrow, I'll be working hard too.  
Shige._  
  
He's barely through the last line before he realises that he's pressed the speed-dial button and there's the click as the call connects.  
  
“Ryo?” Shige sounds faintly surprised when he answers. “Sorry, did I wake you?”  
  
“No... I just can't get to sleep yet.” _And I miss you_ , is unsaid but the smile in Shige's answering 'Hmm' tells him Shige gets it anyway.  
  
He rolls over on his back, closing his eyes and imagining Shige at his study desk, glasses perched on his nose, twirling a pen in his left hand while the right holds the phone against his ear. He would be leaning back, eyes idly scanning the knick-knacks on his bookshelf as he speaks quietly. Ryo's lost count of the number of times he's seen Shige like that, chatting with Koyama late into the night. It used to bother him, but now he's thankful for the visuals it provides him to go with Shige's voice over the line.  
  
“Actually, I'm still working on the script, but I kind of got stuck.” There's a trace of anxiety in Shige's voice that doesn't escape Ryo.  
  
“Isn't it already midway through the run?” It's not exactly unexpected though – Shige is never truly satisfied with his own creative work, is his own harshest critic.  
  
“I thought I'd modify it a little for the Kansai audience, but... it seems I'm a little low on inspiration tonight.” The sheepish tone still doesn't completely mask Shige's underlying insecurity.  
  
“Ne, Shige.” Ryo knows he's using his no-nonsense-snap-out-of-it tone. “Both Koyama and Tego-nyan have been to see it, and they both say you're good. Damn good. So have more faith in yourself.”  
  
There's a pause, punctuated only by their breaths in each other's ears, then Shige lets out a shaky laugh. “I should, shouldn't I? Seeing as I'm already halfway through as well.”  
  
Ryo uses his free hand to draw the sheets tighter around himself, even though it's a pathetic substitute for the warmth that is too many miles away. The conversation continues for a while longer, but Ryo can hear Shige's mind drifting as ideas start churning in his brain. “Alright, don't stay up too late, yeah? I'll see you soon.” _Just three more days._  
  
Shige mumbles a distracted goodbye and they hang up, but a minute later, Ryo's phone vibrates again.  
  
 _Arigatou._  
  
Ryo knows there's a big silly grin on his face but he can't help it. Hearing Shige, connecting with him even for such a short time, has swept away the funk brought about by exhaustion and separation. With his mind clear, other emotions come to the forefront, like the glowing pride as he watches Shige come into his own, carving a niche and distinguishing himself; the joy at seeing Shige shine more and more brightly as he gains confidence in front of the public eye; and, most of all, the secret happiness, held close to his heart, that just a few words from him can help restore Shige's faith in his own capabilities, spurring him on to greater heights.  
  
He's never wanted to hide Shige from the world, has never had Shige look at him with terror in his eyes – wariness, exasperation, hurt and anger, lust and happiness and joy and love; but never true, bone-deep fear.  
  
He's more than Sousuke could ever be, just as Sousuke's fatal love for Michiru is but a pale shadow compared to the richness of what he feels for Shige. There won't be any wedding dresses in their story, bloodstained or otherwise, and Ryo's pretty sure he can live with that.  
  
*  
  
Later he dreams of the day Shige told him he would be having his own stage play.  
  
He'd gone to pick Shige up from the Aoyama campus for lunch, as was their habit on the days he's off, and Shige had just received the news from their manager over the phone.  
  
Shige's face had been radiant with anticipation, eyes dancing with excitement as he immediately started brainstorming for ideas. Ryo thought he had never looked more beautiful.


End file.
